


on the verge of death

by RatonLaveur



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Love Confessions, M/M, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 10:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19270954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RatonLaveur/pseuds/RatonLaveur
Summary: Does anything even still matter when you are on the verge of death?





	on the verge of death

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: as every fic and author on here, i mean no disrespect and this fic is connected to the series, not the actual tragedy 
> 
> my hand slipped and i couldn't resist all the angst potential, so here have my take on this ship aye  
> binge watched the series yesterday, as a slavic person living in a post communist country ive been hearing about the tragedy since i was a child and always been heavily invested in the story, so i was really excited about the series! i wasn't disappointed at all, i was impressed actually. great job, HBO, should be played to anyone who still votes for the communist party in my country eh (an uncomfortable amount of people, i assure you)  
> political rant over, i hope you enjoy my writing attempt!

The depressingly grey aura of everyday life, maximised by the unnerving rain falling on the pavement, creating a monotone sound.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

As you are getting closer to the end, the speed of your life keep increasing, until every minute feels like a mere second and every hour like a minute slipping through your fingers as you are trying to grasp the time you still have left.

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._

You start thinking about the value of your pathetic life, until you can no longer see it. What does it matter what you've done or created, when it's going to be erased and forgotten the moment you leave your worn down body?

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap._

Does anything even still matter when you are on the verge of death?

 

Valery was painfully aware of the fragile concept of his life leaving his body every passing millisecond. Not that it would be a huge issue itself, as he was quite in peace with the idea of not existing anymore. The worst thing was his punishment.

Living his last depressing moments in isolation.

Being alone wasn't uncommon for him, considering both the nature of his job and his actual personality. But being isolated, especially from people he learnt to trust with his everything was somehow different from the typical loneliness he knew. He gained a new hole in his heart filled with emptiness.

He had spent the last few days debating with himself, trying to figure out how to approach his current situation. Of course, he knew he wouldn't be able to withstand this for too long. He knew his death wasn't going to be natural.

But with this observation, another thought entered his mind. A thought so desperate to the point of being annoying, sitting at the back of his mind all the time, watching at first, then attacking without any warning and after some time, even poisoning his dreams.

He was basically dead and nothing mattered anymore. But this particular thought was trying to tell him otherwise.

There was one more thing. One more thing that was stronger than his dying blues and numb depression.

Love.

At first, he struggled to name this feeling. He was a scientist by nature, a soviet by upbringing. Love wasn't as important or strong as other matters of the world. Happiness could be achieved by working hard and behaving like a robot fighting for the greater good of everyone. The sole purpose of one single person was to be a part of the mass which strived for collective happiness. This wasn't the right era to be a rebellious individual.

Yet.

He couldn't possibly ignore the feeling burning within him. The closer to death he got, the stronger the feeling became, swallowing him whole. His dying heart was beating faster and stronger than ever before, refusing to go without fulfilling the passion.

Despite his screaming emotions, Valery knew that what he wanted was impossible. After all, he was isolated and any action he could take might put other people in danger.

He knew he was going to die alone, filled with bitter regret. And nothing in the world could change that. Love isn't stronger than the Soviet Union. Nothing is.

 

***

 

Fresh wind brought more grey clouds filled with sadness into the city. Tension was in the air and everyone could feel it. People rushed home or to work, visibly uncomfortable, in an attempt to hide from the unusual atmosphere.

On that day, Valery lost his mind.

He took all of his savings, aware that money was the last thing that mattered at the moment, and risked everything (if there was still something left to lose) to bribe his neighbour. His "neighbour", to be exact, as it wasn't too hard to tell that he was actually a KGB agent keeping an eye on Valery, as if there was something he could do.

The agent was quite young, young enough to still believe in the Party, but not old enough to be truly corrupted by the evil of his colleagues. He was reluctant at first, but after learning that he would get quite a lot of money in an exchange for a small task, he agreed. He claimed he would think about whether he was going to alert his superiors, but it didn't exactly matter to Valery. Nothing mattered besides this one thing.

The call.

His shaking hands dialed an unknown number in a phonebox a few blocks away from his current apartment. There wasn't really a point in hiding his intentions, considering he had to get the number from the agent, but it still made him feel better - and there was a slight possibility that the agent would keep their exchange to himself. After all, he could get into trouble himself, if he didn't.

So there he was, inside the phonebox, shaking and gasping for air with the phone in his hand.

Please, pick up. Please.

_"Shcherbina?"_

Valery almost dropped the phone with shock coming from hearing the familiar voice after so long, and relief that the call actually went through.

"Hey," he said quietly. "It's me."

The phone stayed quiet for a few seconds, seconds that felt like a lifetime filled with many clocks, ticking mockingly.

_"Valery?"_ The voice was filled with disbelief. _"Why are you calling? Where are you? Isn't this dangerous?"_

"I just wanted to hear your voice," Valery blurted out and immediately regretted his words, as they sounded stupid. Immature. Pathetic. "I'm sorry I'll go now."

_"No, wait."_ Boris cleared his throat. _"Where are you? We could arrange a safe meeting-"_

"No. They could hurt you."

_"You are also putting yourself in danger for this call."_

"I'm basically dead."

_"So am I."_

More silence.

_"Valera, I-"_

"Listen. I don't have much time left. I just wanted you to know… That you mean to me more than anyone else ever did. I analysed the feeling and realised it's…" He took a deep breath before continuing. "I love you. That's it."

_"You and your analysis."_ The tone of his voice gave away that he was smiling. _"Just tell me where you are I wanna-"_

The phone went silent without a warning. That could mean just one thing.

The line was cut off.

Valery calmly placed the phone back where he took it, noticing the machine was turned off.

He wasn't surprised, he wasn't mad. He smiled to himself one last time, knowing that he did what needed to be done - following the commands of his heart this time.

Now for the last thing, the last action in his little rebellious world, that was also predicted and expected by the great Soviet Union.

He grasped the revolver in his pocket.

Man was born for love and revolution.

_Bang._

 

**Author's Note:**

> "man was born for love and revolution" is a great dazai osamu quote (specifically from the setting sun) which you can pry from my cold, dead hands as i'll keep using it till the day i die
> 
> im sorry for any mistakes im tired but this didn't let me sleep 
> 
> i will really appreciate your feedback! come yell at me on twitter if you fancy it (@racooneyess)


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